


Stars

by beeswaxing



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: M/M, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1584662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeswaxing/pseuds/beeswaxing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are times when we search and yearn for things we cannot touch or see, so what happens when we realize that we’ve always had it? Now that’s a question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stars

Yunho eyes the lump on one end of the huge king size bed in the hotel room. The man is practically dangling off the edge of the bed, curled up so soundly with one arm hanging loose, his soft snores are the only sound in the room.

He contemplates the expanse of bed behind the sleeping man, and makes his decision.

The man turns, hobbling slightly to take the weight off his slightly sore ankle, he goes through the adjoining door into the other room. The younger man is exhausted, still trying to get used to a tour schedule so tight it barely gives them room to breathe, and Yunho knows his other half needs a good sleep.

And since his injury, a good sleep is almost a guaranteed impossibility for anyone lying next to him.

Already prone to sleeping at weird angles, it gets worse with his sore leg as he finds all kinds of new positions in the middle of the night, upsetting the sleep of whoever is with him.

Though really, it’s only been one person.

The dark circles and red rimmed eyes speak for themselves, even though Changmin doesn’t say a word about it as he nags Yunho into using his crutches while in their apartment in Tokyo or in any hotel room they happen to be in. He disregards Yunho’s insistence that he no longer needs it, checking in the awkward piece of luggage wherever they go.

It doesn’t matter that Yunho can now dance on his injured foot.

It doesn’t matter that he can walk just fine without help.

Changmin still gets an stark look in his eyes whenever he thinks Yunho is overdoing it.

He keeps it to himself, but Yunho can tell from the tightening of those expressive bambi eyes and the unhappy curl of his mouth. There are times during the strenuous practices when he knows Changmin is thisclose to storming off to grab his crutches and hit him over the head with them just to drive his point home.

_You want injured? I’ll give you injured._

But the maknae has learned his lesson about excessive displays of emotion over Yunho. They were forced apart in South Korea because of it, and he is not about to let that happen in Japan too.

No, he corrects in his mind. 

Not maknae. 

Changmin is a grown man and it’s just the two of them.

Partner.

His partner.

Yunho lies back on the comfortable mattress, flinching as pain shoots up his leg as he forces it under the tight covers of the bed. Changmin normally turns down the sheets, eliminating this possibility altogether, but he never imagined the spare hotel room would actually be used.

The leader of Tohoshinki is willing be subjected to a diatribe in the morning, but the important thing is that Changmin gets some sleep.

He closes his eyes, waiting for sleep to overcome him after their long day. 

—

It doesn’t take long.

Ten minutes at the most, when Yunho hears muttering coming from the room he’d vacated. He closes his eyes, feigning sleep as he hears the telltale shuffling of someone coming through the door with a lot of baggage.

He resists the urge to take a peek, as a body lands in the bed next to him, sprawling right on top of him, and he cannot quite keep the _ooof_ sound he makes as the breath is fair knocked out of him.

“Serves you right,” a voice mutters somewhere in the vicinity of his chest.

Yunho opens his eyes to find a mop of curls in his face. Fragrant curls.

He inhales deeply, and the head creeps a little further up his chest till his mouth is pressed against a smooth forehead.

“You need to sleep.”

“I was asleep till you decided to sleep in this room.”

“That means you weren’t asleep if you knew that.”

“Why do I even bother?” the younger man asks as he throws a leg carefully over Yunho’s.

Nothing misses him though as he feels the tenseness in the older man’s body.

He lifts his head up, peering at the leader in the dim light as if searching for something. 

Yunho looks away, willing the throbbing pain to dissipate as he stares out the window at the darkened sky outside, and his mind takes a fanciful turn as the weariness overtakes him. He wishes he could see the stars. He misses seeing stars. He misses the hope that it brings, and the awe that he feels at gazing up at their twinkling existence. A beauty so understated yet profound, and makes him happy that he’s alive. Stars are dependable. They are always there, even though you cannot see them all the time. He’d like to though. Just one little star. Would that be too much to ask? 

He can barely remember the last time he saw stars, and the one occasion he does recall them is from a time long gone in the balmy, heavenly paradise of Bora Bora. Living in metropolitan cities whether in Japan or in South Korea, he’s pretty sure he hasn’t seen stars in a very long time. 

And for some reason, this makes him sad.

Changmin drops his head, sliding down Yunho’s body till his hand reaches his injured leg, he starts to massage, knowing exactly where to press and how much pressure to exert. 

He’s been doing it for weeks on end.

“You don’t have to do that.”

Changmin nuzzles against the side of Yunho’s belly, resisting the urge to bite the soft flesh as a warning. 

He kisses him instead.

Yunho continues to stare out the window, eyes continuing to search for the elusive stars he knows are there, as his hand finds purchase in Changmin’s soft curls and he rubs the man’s scalp gently. The ache in his foot is easing exponentially, and for the millionth time, he wonders why he doesn’t take the comfort offered so willingly to him.

Why must he always resist?

Why does he always fight it?

Guilt.

This young man is his to protect, not the other way round.

Right?

“Stop over thinking it.”

“Should I worry that you always know what I’m thinking?”

“That’s just because you’re predictable.”

“You’re so tired, Changdollie. You need a good night’s sleep.”

“I sleep just fine.”

“No, you don’t.”

Changmin stops his massage and lifts his head up, dark eyes penetrating in their intensity as he stares up at his leader. 

A leader who is still staring out the window, looking for the stars he cannot see.

“You know I can’t sleep without you.”

“Yes, you can. I saw the Mimi behind the scenes, Changdol-ah.”

“I can _nap_ anywhere, but I cannot _sleep_ without you.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Don’t be obtuse.”

Yunho chuckles quietly as he scrapes his nails over the younger man’s scalp, feeling the tension slowly melting off Changmin as he drops his head again and sinks deeper against his body. His ankle is feeling a lot better, and his awareness is fully fixated on the long body wrapped around his lower half.

He feels fingers dancing up his opposite thigh as Changmin drags himself heavily up his body, fingers leisurely skimming his topless torso as he settles himself against Yunho’s side. 

Tucked under his arm.

For a man who in reality is almost two inches taller than Yunho, Changmin has practically made it an art form the way he folds himself to be small enough to be tucked under an armpit.

He snuggles, crossing a long arm over Yunho’s broad chest, he hugs tight, making like a koala he always turns into when they’re alone.

Cheek pressed against Yunho’s chest, Changmin stares out the window with the older man.

“What are you looking at?”

“A star.”

Changmin tries to find these stars, but he sees nothing. His eyes search, and his hold of Yunho tightens in his determination to see what the other man sees.

It is quiet, the two men breathing in tandem as they both search the empty night sky.

They’re both thinking the same thing.

They’re both feeling the same pang.

But they don’t speak of it.

Stars.

They’ve always only ever associated it with one thing.

But it doesn’t have to be this way, does it?

Yunho breaks the mold, his thoughts moving away from that one thing, to another memory of a shared time with a man who hates horror movies and picks the weirdest things to watch to replace them. 

“Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?”

Changmin lifts his head in surprise, finding that Yunho is no longer staring out the window as their eyes meet.

“And do the stars gaze back?”

Stars are dependable. They are always there, even when you cannot see them.

Yunho cups Changmin’s cheek, his voice gentle as he feels a warmth spreading through him at the complete love and trust in the younger man’s dark eyes. 

“This one does.”

**Author's Note:**

> You know… I really cannot figure out my muses. I wanted to write a story about naggy Chami but somehow it didn’t work out for me.


End file.
